


Three Sides

by Jakaboi



Category: National Treasure (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakaboi/pseuds/Jakaboi
Summary: They'd found Cibola, Abigail and Ben were back together, and Riley had just been asked to sign a copy of his book by a beautiful young woman. Everything had worked out and was where it should be. They ought to have known it wouldn't last very long...





	1. Riley's Side

**Author's Note:**

> Three Sides of the Same Story.
> 
> Originally posted over on ff.net in February of 2010. The other two sides will be posted soon.

Riley looked mournfully at his milkshake in one hand and his bag of Mount Rushmore souvenirs in the other as he strolled through the crowd of history enthusiasts gathered to celebrate the discovery of Cibola who mingled with the normal Rushmore tourists. They'd found the city of gold _and_ they were all still alive; he should have been happy but he knew that whatever new discovery they'd made, things would just end up going back to the way they were, he'd revert back to the unrecognised 'assistant' of the 'glorious' Benjamin Gates.

"Excuse me." A red-haired girl gently pulled on his arm as he passed and turned him round until they were facing each other. "Hey, you're that guy… The treasure hunter guy right?"

Her face was filled with excitement and Riley sighed. Another one of Ben's fangirls.

"No, actually, the guy you're thinking of is somewhere over there." He turned and indicated over towards where he knew Ben and Abigail were. What he wouldn't give for one of these girls to be after him for once.

"No." She smiled and shook her head while Riley watched dumbfounded as she pulled out a copy of The Templar Treasure. "You're him. Riley Poole. I recognise you from your book." He looked up at her. Was this girl for real? "Will you sign it?"

Riley's souvenirs instantly crashed to the floor in his surprise. Was this really happening? Something inside the bag smashed upon impact with the ground but he didn't care.

"Okay." she smiled shyly at him and he couldn't help but return it. "Who's it for?"

"I'm Candice."

"Candice." Signing on the front page was amazing and he took pride in the action. There was no knowing when he'd be asked to do this again. "That's a lovely name." she giggled timidly and peered up at him through her hair. "Here." Their hands touched for a moment as he handed back her book and after a small awkward moment she stuttered her thanks before moving on.

Looking after her and picking up his bag of souvenirs, Riley truly felt that he might have been wrong earlier. Maybe, just maybe, he could be more than he had been before this whole Cibola thing.

"Oh no." the Rushmore mug he'd bought was now in two large and one small piece after its sudden meeting with the ground. "That's seven dollars I'll never see again.

"My heart bleeds for you."

The souvenirs fell to the floor again as Riley spun round and found himself face to face with the blond guy the British voice matched.

"Ian?" Not good. So not good. "Fancy seeing you here. Shouldn't you be-"

"In prison?" he wasn't smiling and neither was Riley.

"Yeah." He swallowed.

Ian had made more than clear during their search for the Charlotte that he didn't much care for Riley's methods, or his humour, or his appearance, or his general existence. Thinking about it, Riley would probably have been dead a hundred times over during the search if not for Ben's high recommendations and protection.

"So…how ya been?"

"In prison."

There wasn't any way this could end well, Riley knew this, but this guy had threatened to kill him ten times before the Charlotte betrayal and then actually pointed a gun at him at least two more times during the actual hunt for the treasure; besides Ben was the one who thought on his feet and got him out of situations like this.

"And yourself?" Ian's face didn't change as he spoke, stuck, seemingly permanently, in a scowl.

"Not bad." Nodding nervously, he saw Ben and Abigail in the distance over Ian's shoulder. If he could somehow signal them without Ian noticing.

"How'd my treasure work out for you?"

"Well…" Riley debated internally whether or not there was an answer to that question which wouldn't get him severely beaten up. "Actually…"

"I hear you have a book. What's it called? How to be useless?" Riley slowly backed away, panicking slightly as Ian stepped forward to keep the distance the same. "How to be taken for granted?"

"Ben!" His voice cracked as he yelled. He didn't expect Ben to hear he was so far away. Ian's taunting was as much a smack in the gut as he remembered; just like old times. "BEN!"

"How to be a second rate sidekick?"

"BE-!" the cry was stopped as Ian smashed his jaw with a left hook.

The floor rushed up to meet Riley and he smacked into it with a deafening CRACK! At least it was deafening for him, reverberating around his head which was bursting with pain. People were scattering away from him; he watched their feet momentarily as they ran from the fight that was surely escalating. Screams filled the air as they escaped and every fibre of Riley's being ached to be able to join them but he could only lay there on his stomach, winded and unable, or was it unwilling, to move. His left cheek was stinging like crazy and although he couldn't see figured it was probably grazed, not too badly but enough to hurt.

There was blood in his mouth; his blood. It tasted bitter and metallic and all sorts of wrong. He spat it out onto the floor beside him and pushed himself up onto his knees.

"Get up!" The scruff of his neck was seized and he was dragged up until he was standing. Ian turned him so they were facing each other again. The smile growing on the blond's face was not spelling happy times ahead for Mr. Poole. "You were always weak."

Smack!

Contact with Ian's right fist was more painful than the first one as it smashed into his already grazed cheek and opened a fresh wound by his ear. More pain exploded and his head began to swim. The people around him were starting to blur slightly and thinking straight was becoming a bit more difficult than he believed was healthy, but he still had enough wits about him to know he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Air was forced out of his lungs as he landed flat on his back which he managed to translate into a cry of pain.

Blood started to accumulate in his mouth and he began choking as it followed the rule of gravity, dripping to the back of his throat.

Choking on his own blood was not something he wanted to do, it would result it pain and death. So he started to panic which just made him choke more which made him panic more. It was a vicious circle and Riley wished someone would break it.

Almost instantly he regretted that thought as a boot made contact with his jaw knocking him onto his side. He spat the blood out onto the floor again and heard a nearby woman gasp in horror.

"What's the matter, Riley? Nothing clever to say?" each word was laden with smugness. Each of them was saying 'where's Ben now?' "No insulting jibes? No witty comebacks?"

"I knew if you worked on those people skills…" he croaked but couldn't finish the sarcastic comment; his jaw was aching and telling him he shouldn't even be thinking about trying to talk but he refused to be silent just because Mr Blond British Moron punched and kicked him a couple of times.

Alright, he was in a fairly large amount of pain and this was the closest he'd come to being beaten up by someone since High School but he wasn't the naïve, weak, dorky, geeky kid that Ian and Ben had found in that blocked off, windowless, solitary cubicle however long ago it was now. He'd changed; not always for the better, he didn't use to shoot his mouth off so much which meant he got into less trouble back then, but Ian still thought of him as the kid who had jumped at the corpse and flinched from the gun all that time ago on the Charlotte.

Truthfully, he would probably be freaked out by the nasty remains now, and he certainly didn't disagree with someone who held him at gunpoint, but the point was Riley had grown. Well, emotionally at any rate; he still had the physique of a naïve, weak, dorky, geeky kid who spent too much time in front of the computer screen and not enough in the real world.

There was an onimous click and Riley tried not to give away the increasing fear that was building up in his chest. Of course he had a gun. He couldn't just leave it at a humiliating pummelling and be done with it; no he had to go and point a gun at him. He swore it was Ian's favourite past time. 'I say, chaps, I'm a bit bored what. How about I point a gun at that young Mr. Poole to pass the time? Why yes, I feel infinitely more interested and not a bit bored what.' Bloody British idiot!

"I told Ben you were a waste of time."

"You were wrong."

Afraid to open his eyes, Riley peered through his lashes and glimpsed Ben stood a short way away from them. Upon seeing his friend, his eyes widened and confidence soared. Ben was stood with the confidence that he always seemed to have when things started going wrong. Hell, it was the same determination that had convinced him that stealing the Declaration of Independence was not only possible but necessary for the good of the country.

"Hello Ben." Ian's smugness was undeterred by Ben's arrival which bashed down Riley's confidence somewhat.

"Ian." There was an awful tension in the air which caused an uneasy feeling to take root in Riley's stomach. "You okay Riley?"

As he opened his mouth to respond, a foot kicked Riley hard in the small of his back forcing his words to be lost in a cry of pain.

"Goddamit Ian!" Ben shouted.

"Heard you found a new treasure." Riley groaned.

Breathing was laboured, his lungs kept constricting when he tried to take anything that vaguely resembled an attempt to take a deep refreshing breath. Trouble was all his organs and muscles and slowly developing wounds were screaming for oxygen as he lay there. Muscles that he didn't know he had were aching horribly. One thing was for sure; he'd have _loads_ of fun getting out of bed tomorrow.

Overall, he concluded, it could be a hell of a lot worse. There weren't any injuries that wouldn't heal after a few days, maybe weeks, of rest and recuperation; and he was still alive, wasn't he? He would have signalled this to Ben if he could but knew that if he let out so much as a squeak that could be interpreted as 'I'm fine', Ian would feel more than obliged to 'correct' that fact.

His shirt was grabbed again and he was hoisted to his feet. Thankfully his legs weren't really damaged and he was able to hold himself up, not that he had much choice about falling down with Ian holding him up by the scruff of his neck.

"And what's to stop me from shooting him?" Ian's gun was roughly force into Riley's temple as he realised that while doing his injury assessment Ben and Ian had continued talking…discussing…arguing? Whatever it was they were doing. "What's to stop me putting a bullet through his head right here?"

"Leave Riley out of this."

"Why, Ben? You're the one who brought him into this. You the reason he's here today." Riley watched as everything about Ben changed before his eyes.

Ben was scared. Everything about him started screaming it, his voice, his manner, his posture; he stopped standing up straight looking to the world to be filled with confidence and bravado, and began to hunch up and reach out pleadingly with his arms.

"Just let him go, Ian."

"What you gonna do Ben?" Ian's tease hissed into Riley's ear and the boy flinched.

Seeing Ben looking so helpless was discomforting. Before, he hadn't looked like this because he'd been able to do something to stop something like this escalating.

When Patrick had been kidnapped, Ben could do as he was told to ensure his father's safety.

When Ian had threatened to kill them all, Ben had given him a fake clue to get him out of the way.

When Mitch had attacked Abigail in Cibola, Ben had agreed to be left behind in order for everyone to get out safe.

Riley groaned and bent double as Ian slammed him in the stomach with his gun.

"Riley!" He heard Ben's cry as if through a window; vague, misty and distant.

He wanted this to be over. He wanted to curl up on the floor and just let the pain wash over him. He wanted Ben to end this but Ben didn't know what to do. The thought kept going round and round in his head, taking every bit of fight he had left in him.

_It means if there's something wrong those with the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action._

Ben's words from all that time ago pushed forward to the forefront of his memory. His own reasoning escaped him but at this memory Riley knew what he had to do.

Riley snapped straight up, hoping against all odds that he'd hit the smarmy git's nose as he threw all his force behind it. There was a crunch and a curse as he found his target causing Ian to lose his grip. Ben reached out to Riley and beckoned to him to run towards him. Of course, Riley was all too happy to oblige.

A shot went off and pain exploded in Riley's gut.

Immediately his legs gave way and the floor rushed up to greet him for the third time. Two arms reached out to catch him too late as he fell forward onto the floor with a painful thud. Instantly the arms were wrapped around his torso, turned him over and lifted him partially from the ground. He couldn't see who they belonged to, his vision was swimming with the combination of sudden blood loss, possible concussion and the tears rapidly forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Aah!" His hands had shot to where the pain was amassing and his cry was more from the amount of blood he could feel gushing over his hands than the increase of pain that ran through his torso at the touch.

He'd been shot.

"No, Riley!" Ben sounded like he was going to cry as he grabbed Riley's wrists and twisted them away from the wound. "Leave it! You'll just make it worse!"

Riley struggled against Ben's grip, desperate to get the blood off his hands, or to grasp at his side or do something; anything. His panic was growing.

He'd been shot.

He'd been _shot_. From behind.

But his hands were dripping with blood, too much blood, and he'd grasped at his _front_.

"The bullet…" he gasped, feeling the onset of a panic attack as he realised what had happened. "Bullet went through…"

"You're gonna be fine."

"Such…" he laughed weakly, "a bad liar, Ben."

Ian had _shot_ him.

"Aah!" his breaths were coming in gasps now, his lungs somewhat unwilling to function properly. "Ben!"

"I'm here! I'm right here."

The pain wasn't going away; of course it wasn't going away he'd been _shot_. Great, he was already starting to lose rational thought processes and the pain was getting worse. This would have to happen to him.

"Look at me, Riley!" It was an order and as Riley looked up he could see the blurry outline of what he presumed was Ben above him. "You're gonna be fine."

"Yeah." he croaked. "And there isn't really a map on the back of the Declaration of Independence."

There was a lot of screaming and shuffling about going on around him but Riley couldn't discern anything anymore; the pain was all he felt. Ben's blurry outline was beginning to get even blurrier; all that was really visible now was some sort of shape above him.

"Ben." He didn't have the energy to shout or scream anymore, didn't even have the energy to fight Ben, didn't know what to say or think; there was just the unbearable pain and the growing exhaustion in his entire body.

"Riley!" someone tapped quite harshly on his grazed cheek but he just couldn't muster the energy to keep his eyes open. "Stay with me! Come on, Riley!"

His legs, which he hadn't even realised were flailing, were the first to stop moving. Then his arms slowly lost their strength, which Ben obviously noticed as he released Riley's wrists. One by one, every muscle in his body was starting to relax as he continued to bleed and he felt Ben's grip tighten round his chest in panic.

"Come on! Stay with me buddy!"

"Ben…"

"You just gotta stay awake." Ben was pleading with him, his voice strained but however much he wanted to, Riley was too far gone to be able to try; still Ben kept saying it over and over again. Each repetition of it caused Riley emotional pain on top of the physical. He'd never heard Ben sound so desperate or helpless ever, not when even when him and Abigail had lost the Declaration of Independence to Ian.

"Open your eyes, Riley! Look at me!"

Ben's order was the last thing Riley heard before he finally lost consciousness.


	2. Ian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second side to the story. - Ian Howe

Ian gazed round at the crowd sipping absent-mindedly at his drink. People were mingling all around him, talking about different kinds of stupid American things; tourists snapping ridiculous pictures for souvenirs, parents telling children to pay attention right now and stop messing about, couples cooing over each other; none of them, except perhaps some of the history enthusiasts he recognised among them, having the faintest notion of the magnificent discovery that sat behind all their heads.

Cibola, the city of gold, was sat somewhere behind Mount Rushmore being collected and catalogued and preserved by some group of people who were into that sort of thing. Before, all that history had just sat there waiting to be…restored to the world. It was only natural that it would engage the curiosity of 'treasure protector' Benjamin Gates.

He closed his eyes. Just thinking about that goddam idiot made his blood boil.

Kidnap, attempted murder and trespassing on government property.

Trespassing was piss-easy; basic criminal behaviour, breaking and entering, stealing, those kinds of things. He'd done kidnap before too, was nothing new for him; it was a difficult thing to do and a quick way of drawing attention to yourself if you didn't do it carefully. Attempted murder, he'd come close; GBH and ABH but never anything with an aim to kill, he wasn't that much of a monster no matter what anyone thought.

A drunken tourist knocked into him as he passed by and blurted out a very slurred apology. Why, wherever he went, was there always at least one drunk American?

Being in prison had been nothing new to Ian, you don't commit crimes without getting your hands dirty, and escaping and evading the police wasn't exactly a challenge for the mind, but it was the whys and the wherefores of the whole affair that were really annoying him. Specifically, it was the historian involved in his incarceration who was stood less than a hundred yards away from him.

Ben was trying to move through the crowd, stopped every few moments by someone who would talk to him excitedly before allowing him on his way.

"Oh come on, Ben." He muttered as Ben anxiously fended off another elderly couple. "Don't act like you don't love it."

Within moments he was out of view and Ian was, again, left wondering why he'd come here.

If there was anywhere he was going to get caught it would be where Ben Gates was. No doubt Ben's pet FBI agent would be around somewhere keeping an eye out for suspicious characters such as himself and there was only so much time before someone was sure to notice him. Besides, seeing Ben enjoying the spoils of the treasure that ought to have been lining Ian's pockets only made him feel humiliated.

When Ian had told Ben he could get the Declaration of Independence he'd had every intention of letting Ben use the treasure to clear his family's much-less-than-reputable name in the historical community, but no, Ben was all for being noble and not stealing the Declaration; then the bugger went and stole it himself using clever tricks thought up by that annoying techno-geek, Riley.

"What am I doing here?" He threw his drink to the ground in frustration earning himself a few nervous glances from those around him.

"Scuse me." An annoyingly familiar grating voice travelled across the heads of the crowd towards him and he looked up. "Pardon me."

Barely twelve feet in front of him the crowd was shifting about to get out of the way of a familiar dark-haired man carrying a large bag that had some dorky Mount Rushmore flags sticking out the top. Typical Riley.

"Whoa!" The drunken wandering American had bumped into the kid, nearly knocking him over but Riley just smiled with a nervous laugh. "Careful, I need that."

Ben he could understand, Ben he held some respect for even now, but the one thing Ian had never understood and probably never would, was what exactly Ben saw in Riley.

Alright so he'd been useful for finding the Charlotte but even after that Ben had kept Riley on, involving him in everything, even this latest escapade. There was no way on Earth that an idiot with an ability for computer wizardry such as Riley was _that_ useful.

Riley was…unbearable. Even when he wore a suit the kid put on high-top converses which he seemed to have an endless supply of; he was never able to take anything seriously; he couldn't go more than five minutes without making a sarcastic comment; he NEVER showed Ian any respect. Riley Poole was a child, immature and always afraid with stupid superstitions and crazy notions most of which he'd put into that ridiculous book of his.

Unfortunately for Ian, the prison library hadn't been well stocked and he'd had the displeasure of reading The Templar Treasure and other conspiracies that are true; filled with the biggest pile of bullshit ever put on paper.

"Hey, you're that guy… The treasure hunter guy right?"

Riley seemed upset which didn't make sense. He was being spoken to by a beautiful young lady; surely this was Riley's idea of heaven.

A smile crept across Ian's lips as he saw the kid gesture over towards the direction Ben had gone off in. "Getting sick of playing second fiddle…"

His mood quickly soured as the girl took out a copy of that bloody book and Riley's face turned from despair to delight. He just couldn't get a break, could he?

Checking to see if anyone was watching, Ian approached slowly watching the two of them conversing and carefully making sure he didn't make any sudden movements that could alert Riley that he was there. The kid may be essentially useless but boy could he scream up a storm if he felt threatened enough. Getting caught was definitely not on his priority list for today; staying free was.

"That's a lovely name."

He nodded at people who he passed, smiling at them and giving the odd 'hello' but always keeping his eyes on the two people he was heading towards. Ian ended up stood behind Riley shaking his head as the kid bent down to pick up the bag he'd dropped once the girl had left. It was his fault; all of it; his and Ben's.

"Oh no. That's seven dollars I'll never see again."

"My heart bleeds for you."

The bag dropped again before Riley turned to face him. The kid had shaved the beard off, thank God, since Trinity Church; it had made him look like he hadn't wiped his chin properly, but the clean-shaven thing he had going on made him look more like a child than ever.

"Ian? Fancy seeing you here." Riley was smiling uneasily. "Shouldn't you be-?"

"In prison?" thanks for the reminder jackass.

"Yeah."

He watched as the kid looked him up and down, the uneasy smile looking a bit more forced as he did so. Probably having flashbacks about the time Ian had threatened to eviscerate Riley using his precious laptop. When Riley had asked how that was even possible Ian had offered to give a demonstration, at which point the techno-whiz had gone very pale, extremely silent and quietly packed up his stuff before making a hasty exit.

"So…how ya been?"

What a stupid question. What kind of an answer did he think he was gonna get? 'Things have been all rainbows and teddy bears since you and Mr. Righteous ratted me out the cops.'

"In prison." It was short and true. "And yourself?"

"Not bad." The boy's eyes flicked to something over Ian's shoulder, no doubt hoping to signal someone; didn't matter.

"How'd my treasure work out got you?"

"Well…" Riley laughed nervously again. There was no doubt that Ian's presence was unnerving the boy. "Actually…"

"I hear you have a book. What's it called? How to be useless?" Riley took a step back and Ian moved to keep the distance between them. The kid was getting edgier by the minute and Ian didn't see why he couldn't have a little fun. "How to be taken for granted?"

"Ben!" The kid's voice cracked as he called past Ian. "BEN!"

"How to be a second-rate sidekick?"

"BE-!" Ian smashed Riley in the jaw and watched as the boy crumpled to the concrete floor; there was a satisfying smack as he made contact.

Ian let out a sigh of relief. "You have _no_ idea how long I've wanted to do that."

As Riley hit the floor a woman screamed and those nearby flinched back; one or two of them even ran. There went his freedom. There would probably be ten minutes before cops or FBI or some sort of security guards or something turned up to haul him back to jail. If he left now he could get away scot-free.

There was a noise at his feet as Riley spat blood onto the ground beside him and Ian decided he'd waited too long for this opportunity. Every other time he'd had the chance to stop this piss-taking, sarcastic, little brat Ben had stepped in the way and said that they needed him. Because the treasure then took priority, Ian had stepped down but now there was no reason to hold back; no one to stop him. If he could get in a few good punches on Riley then he could put up with however long they put him in prison for.

"Get up!" He grabbed Riley and roughly hauled him so he was standing upright. There was a graze on the kid's cheek which was bleeding slightly and blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth. He'd waited too long. "You were always weak."

Smashing the kid with his other fist was so unbelievably fulfilling that he was able to ignore the pain in his right hand as Riley went straight down. The boy cried out as he hit the ground and everyone flinched back again.

Every threat Ian had made passed through his head. He could carry out them all…well actually the evisceration with Riley's laptop was beyond Ian's capabilities but that was beside the point. The point was- Riley started choking on the blood trickling into his throat.

"Come on, Riley." There was a whine to Ian's voice as he smacked his boots into the side of Riley's jaw forcing him onto his side.

People were scattering away now; only a few didn't move, frozen in horror at what was happening before them.

"What's the matter Riley? Nothing clever to say?" Seven minutes left and he was going to milk every moment for all its worth. "No insulting jibes? No witty comebacks?"

The boy raised his head off the ground and turned slightly towards him. "I knew if you worked on your people skills…" the rest of the comment was lost as Riley let his head fall to the ground again.

The British guy had always known himself to have a strong punch and kick and Riley was practically made of paper; it was just too easy. Shaw had suggested the kid go to a gym but Riley had simply made a comment about how that would kill him; if only he'd known.

Ian's anger flared as he remembered what had happened to Shaw in the underground stairway. That was their fault too. If they'd just done things his way in the first place Shaw might not have died. Just another thing to add to the 'why I hate Ben and Riley' list.

His hand reached to his belt and pulled out the gun he had stowed there. If this was going to be the time he didn't hold back he'd have to make it count. When he cocked it Riley let out a small moan.

"I told Ben you were a waste of time." He straightened his aim on the geek's head; he wasn't going to mess this up.

"You were wrong."

Ian rolled his eyes. Right on cue.

"Hello Ben." Riley's knight in shining armour come to stop Ian before things got too out of hand; a little later than normal. He was stood three feet to their side, perfectly visible by Riley in his less-than-healthy state. No doubt the kid thought he was saved.

"Ian." Ben was looking at him not at his friend. Ian's hand hadn't moved from its position even though his concentration was on the new 'party guest'. "You okay Riley?"

As Riley opened his mouth to answer, Ian rammed him in the small of his back with his size nines and the kid cried out. This really was too much fun.

"Goddamit Ian!" Ben still made no move towards them, his eyes flicking every once in a while to the gun in Ian's hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry." So not sorry at all and guessing from Ben's scowl, he knew it too. "Heard you found a new treasure."

"What d'you want?"

"I'm not quite sure, but finally shutting this son of a bitch up has been rather satisfying." It was true and no one could really know how great it felt for his smile to be fuelled by Riley's pain.

Ben's gaze finally went down to his fallen comrade as the boy began to wheeze uneasily. "Let him go."

"Or what Ben? You gonna turn me in?" Ben's face didn't change but Ian could see that was what he was threatening. Such typical Ben behaviour. "Well guess what…I don't care."

"Ian." The historian moved towards him his hand outstretched. Four minutes.

"Not another move or I'll make sure attempted is taken off the murder charge." Ben stopped. Clever Ben had always known when Ian was deadly serious.

"You can't do this." His voice was calm but Ian ignored it hearing the real tone beneath it, the one of panic and fear. Ben was terrified and floundering for something, anything he could do.

"Why not? What have I got to lose?" he bent down and seized the ragdoll that was Riley by the scruff of his neck. "And what's to stop me from shooting him?" Riley flinched as Ian pressed the gun into the side of his forehead. "What's to stop me putting a bullet through his head right here?"

"Leave Riley out of this!"

"Why, Ben? You're the one who brought him into this. You're the reason he's here today." There was so much more in that phrase.

' _You_ got him involved. _You_ kept him around. _YOU_ made me what I am. It's because of _YOU_ I'm doing this. This is all _YOUR_ fault!'

Ben must have picked up on it because he stepped back, hands reached out in surrender; stupid idiot, like that would stop him.

"Just let him go, Ian."

"What you gonna do Ben?" There wasn't an answer. Ian breathed in through his nose, faking contemplation. "You know what? I think I'll keep hold of him." And he slammed his hand holding the gun into the boy's gut forcing him to bend double.

"Riley!" Ben cried out.

"You see, Ben, you're trying to bargain with me, but I'm afraid you have nothing I want."

SMACK!

He staggered back, seeing stars as the kid slammed back into his face. The trickling blood that accompanied the crunch of bone told Ian that his nose was broken.

"Shit." Everything around him was a bit blurry but he quickly shook it away once he realised that he'd lost his grip on Riley. "Shit!"

The whiz-kid was running towards Ben, no doubt with a cheesy grin plastered across his idiotic mug; both of them probably thinking they'd beaten him. It wasn't enough to dupe him, play him for an idiot, barter with him, trick him and have him arrested; they had to keep pushing him and pushing him. Every frickin' time. Well he'd had enough.

'Eat this.'

He raised the gun and let off two shots.

The first missed; he heard it embedding itself into the concrete to the side of Ben's foot and the historian didn't even flinch.

Riley seemed to trip as he ran and Ben reached out to catch him too late. Stupid kid; couldn't even escape without tripping over his own feet. Ian didn't even realise anything was wrong until Ben flipped Riley over.

Shit.

The front of the white pinstriped shirt the kid was wearing was very red and Ben's face filled with horror as he watched Riley grasp at his side.

"Aah!"

Oh shit!

The kid began shaking with panic and clutching awkwardly at it; would probably have begun clawing at it if Ben hadn't grabbed his wrists to restrain them.

"No, Riley! Leave it! You'll just make it worse!"

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

The gun slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor; no one even noticed.

"Ian?" Abigail was approaching from where she and Ben must have been before the historian rushed over to his friend's aid. Her quizzical eyes looked at him. "Why-?" Riley cried out again, gaining Abigail's attention. "Riley!"

Ian looked at Riley's face; their voices were too quiet for him to hear clearly but the kid seemed to be joking about something. Ben was panicking, Abigail had started crying which meant they could see it too; the kid was fading fast. Guessing by the growing size of red on his shirt it wouldn't be long before he would be unable to reply to their comments.

"You just gotta stay awake!" Never before had the Brit heard Ben talk like that, like he was utterly terrified there was nothing he could do. Benjamin Gates was not a man to give up easily, if anyone knew that it was Ian, but the man before him looked beaten, broken and close to tears.

"I didn…I-I didn't…" Ian couldn't say it, it was true but he just couldn't force his mouth to make the right shapes so he could finish that sentence; he knew if he did Ben wouldn't believe him anyway. Sirens were going off nearby; time was up, the cops would be there any minute; he had to get out!

'What was that you were thinking earlier, Ian?' a niggling voice in his head said as he ran. 'Something about not being a monster?'

_Oh shut up!_ He ran into the trees hoping that the close density of them would slow down who followed him. _He deserved it._


End file.
